


not so much handsome as beautiful

by faintlight



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: (nothing violent and no slurs gleb is just an asshole), Alternate Universe - To All the Boys I've Loved Before Fusion, Anxiety, F/F, F/M, He/Him Lesbian, Homophobia, PTSD, Transphobia, dima IS a lesbian, gleb/dima is just at the beginning, i'm kind of taking liberties with alexei and olga bc they're not characters in the musical, they're all teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faintlight/pseuds/faintlight
Summary: Anya is scared of love, boys, and the future. Dmitri acts like he has all the answers but (spoiler alert!) he doesn't.A TATBILB AU of Anastasia! with lesbians





	1. you don't know (anything about me)

**Author's Note:**

> ever since I watched TATBILB i knew I had to write an anastasia fic bc they are so so similar and i love them both
> 
> i'm sorry that vlad is chris but i literally had no other option 
> 
> three of the crushes (pierre, sydney, and grigori) are historically accurate!
> 
> unfortunately grigori is rasputin and we all just have to live with that fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya knows what it's like to do without.
> 
> It's going to get pushed to a new extent.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: “flyweight love” by vienna teng

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all enjoy this tentative first step into AU territory

Romance was the heart and soul of Anya’s life.

One catch, though.

She’d never been involved in any herself. 

It was all she read about, all she wrote about, all she dreamed about. But actually being in a relationship? The thought of being that emotionally vulnerable with anyone terrified her to her core. The trust, the fear, the- the intimacy was all too much for her. And besides, Anya had never found a man that she trusted, or even liked, to that extent. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were some men Anya liked. Four, in particular. 

One, her old English tutor, Pierre Gilliard. He had been a high school senior when Anya met him, making him exactly five years older. He was tall (well, anyone was compared to Anya), brilliantly smart, and devastatingly handsome. Anya had dedicated hours to trying to find the words to capture that perfectly square jaw, that shining smile, those twinkling eyes. It frustrated her that she could only describe him in cliches. 

Two, Sydney Gibbes. A non-threatening and rather feminine boy Anya had met at horseback riding camp, they spent almost every minute of the two weeks together. Anya had been certain at the time that the affection she felt for him was love.

Three, her ex-best friend’s ex-partner. His name was Dmitri Suganov, and he was a conundrum to Anya. When he dated Gleb, he’d gone by a different name and pronouns, but went through a radical change after getting out of that abusive relationship. He’d always been able to make Anya’s heart pound, ever since that fateful game of spin-the-bottle in seventh grade.

Four, and perhaps the most difficult of all, Grigori Yefimovich. He had been Anya’s next-door neighbor her entire life, and they had always been friends. Anya was closer to him than any other boy, and she suspected that she’d loved him for as long as she’d known him. What made it difficult was that as of two years ago, he started dating Anya’s older sister Olga. It broke Anya’s heart to see them together, but she couldn’t be upset at seeing her sister so happy.

Anya, being the hopeless romantic she was, had written them all love letters at one time or another. They were full of sappy, sentimental musings, things far too embarrassing to see the light of day. So Anya kept them, addressed and stamped, in her mother’s old hatbox underneath her bed. 

And it was fine.

It was fine, Anya was fine, thank you very much, she was happy, she was coping, she was absolutely not using trashy romance novels as a form of escapism to cope with her own inability to form deep emotional bonds, absolutely not. 

...Anyway. 

Anya was fine. Her life was finally regaining some semblance of normalcy, for the first time in years. She was about to begin her junior year of high school, and she was handling that just fine, thanks.

Her sister Olga was also moving to Moscow to go to college and she was absolutely fine with that. Why do you ask? It’s not like Olga had been her mother figure for the past five years ever since… Well, since the accident. Anya didn’t like to think about it. Her therapist said she needed to confront her sad thoughts rather than repressing them, but Anya was handling her grief very, very well and she was doing just fine. 

Watching Olga put all her childhood items in boxes marked “Goodwill” didn’t make her sad at all, and seeing her sister’s room slowly empty was fine. 

The two locked doors at the end of the hallway bore witness to this whole event, the way they had watched every time Anya came home from school, exhausted and crying, hurrying up the stairs to hurl herself onto her bed. They’d watched every time Olga came home late after a night out with Grigori, shoes in hand, her hair falling around her shoulders. They’d watched every midnight when Alexei came running into Anya’s room, crying from a nightmare only to find Anya shaking in her bed, sweating from her own bad dreams. The doors were the silent older sisters Anya had never gotten to know as well as she’d wanted, their lives cut short, the light and brilliance reduced to dusty rooms that no one ever went in. 

Anya didn’t care. She really didn’t care. It had been years, and she was over it now. 

Anya gingerly slid the old hatbox from under her bed and gazed at the letters as she had so many times before. Old fantasies and desires she could never act on, a relationship she would never pursue. 

A knock sounded on her door. “Anya!” her little brother Alexei called. She quickly shut the box and pushed it under her bed. Alexei opened the door, smiling impishly at her. “Dinner’s ready. Dad made borscht.” Anya immediately recoiled. Their father’s traditional Russian cooking was always a disaster. It could never compare to their mother’s. 

Alexei nodded in recognition. “I know. Olga says we have to be nice about it because he tried really hard.” 

Anya sighed. “Do we have to?” Just as the words left her mouth, Olga’s footsteps sounded down the hall. 

“Yes, you do,” Olga said firmly, hands on her hips. “It’s my last night here, and Dad is doing this to make it special.” 

“Fine,” she said, defeated. The three of them headed downstairs, Anya and Alexei a little more solemn at the reminder that this was Olga’s last night at home. 

A knock sounded at the door, breaking them out of their stupor. Their father opened the door, revealing Grigori, Olga’s boyfriend, and their next-door neighbor. 

“Come on in, Grigori!” Anya’s father said cheerily. Grigori came in, his bright smile almost blinding Anya as she leaned her head on the stair post. Olga swept into the foyer and kissed Grigori quickly. Anya couldn’t help but feel her heart twist in love and jealousy. 

They all proceeded to the dinner table. As they sat in their regular seats, Anya couldn’t shake the thought that this easy routine would soon be shattered. 

The conversation passed to the subject of Olga’s return. Alexei cried out when his father revealed that it was simply not feasible for their oldest sister to return for Thanksgiving. 

“Actually, about that,” Grigori cut in. Olga looked up from her bowl sharply. She smiled weakly. Grigori continued, “since you can’t come home for Thanksgiving, I figured I’d bring a bit of home to you.” He pulled an envelope from his coat pocket. Olga’s eyes went wide. 

“You- you bought plane tickets?” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Shoulders shaking, Olga stood up from the table. Grigori followed in suite. She dragged him outside.

The remaining family sat at the table, trying very hard to keep their focus on the frankly awful borscht. Eventually, Olga came back in, tear tracks still carving a path down her mournful face. She sat down heavily and made no comment as to what just happened.

The dinner passed slowly, the whole table somber. Anya sat quietly, sipping her terrible beet soup. Olga did her best to spark conversation, but between Alexei’s mournful sniffles and their father’s fake smile, they all found it difficult to act normal. 

Once the soup was gone, Olga pushed back her chair. “Well, I still have a bit of packing to do.” She motioned to Anya and Alexei to help clean up. As they cleared the bowls, Alexei clung to Anya’s skirts. He looked up at her, eyes full of tears. “Anya,” he sniffled. “Anya, you aren’t going to leave too, right?” 

Anya’s heart clenched. Alexei had been just a baby when the accident had taken their mother and sisters. Olga and Anya were all he had. “I’m not leaving you,” Anya said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He hugged her legs, trying to stop crying. 

Anya scooped him up in her arms and carried him up the stairs. While she wasn’t the strongest, Alexei had always been a weak and sickly child and didn’t weigh much. As she reached the top of the stairs, Alexei burrowed his head into her chest. Anya screwed up her mouth, willing tears not to flow. She pulled him closer. He could sleep in her bed tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it!! more will be coming soon
> 
> find me on twitter @lesbiananstasia


	2. i don't wanna know the details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olga leaves. Anya finds herself wanting.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: “if i’m being honest” by dodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2!!!! I'm super excited about this fic it's about to pop off!!

Anya pushed open the door to her walk-in closet. She reached up to take an old blue hatbox from the top shelf. As she shut her closet and laid the box on the floor, the bow affixed to the side fell off. Smiling slightly, she lifted the old blue bow from the ground and fastened it in her hair. Anya lowered herself to the floor. 

Slowly, she lifted the lid from the box. Inside there were four letters, signed and sealed and (as of yet) undelivered. Anya picked up her innermost secrets and laid them on the floor. She touched each of them gently, a different memory flooding her mind on every envelope. 

Gingerly, Anya slid the letter from Grigori’s envelope. As she took in the old familiar words, a phantom Grigori appeared in her mind. He knelt by her. Sliding his hands up her shoulders, he read along to the letter. Though she had written them with the utmost childlike sincerity, his lilting imaginary voice twisted them into harsh sarcasm. 

A knock at Anya’s door shook her from her stupor. Hurriedly shoving the letters back into their box, she stood to see Olga in her doorway. Without a word, her eldest sister fell into Anya’s bed and curled around a pillow. Anya followed her into bed, leaning back on the headboard.

“I broke up with Grigori,” Olga sniffed, her words barely audible around the pillow. Anya’s eyes grew wide. 

“You what?” she said, her voice soft with disbelief.

“Mom always told me to never take a high school boyfriend to college,” Olga said, her words a little stronger now. She sat up to join Anya. “We’re over. I’m not about to change my mind.”

A million thoughts raced through Anya’s head. What would her and Grigori’s relationship look like now? How would Olga deal with this as she left to be an ocean away? How would their family cope without Grigori? This was too many losses in one day. All she could do was cling tight to her sister and pray for this to wash over them quickly.

\-------

The airport had never felt so cold. 

Anya pursed her lips, still unable to process it all. Her sister, her rock for the past ten years, stood at the gate, awaiting the plane that was about to steal her an ocean away. 

“Did you have to pick the furthest school you could find?”

Even as the words left Anya’s mouth, she knew they were wrong. Olga had never meant their family any harm. She was only following her dreams, and Anya couldn’t hold her back like this. 

But she couldn’t survive without her either. 

Olga sighed and pulled Anya in for a hug. It wasn’t easy for either of them. After a beat, Alexei and their father joined in. Their family wasn’t one to show affection, but today was the hardest since all those years ago. After a minute, they pulled away. An announcement sounded over the intercom, reminding those here to fly to start boarding. Olga said her last goodbyes, and walked through the gate.

She didn’t turn back.

Anya hadn’t thought she would.

\-------

Anya slid into the beat-up car she’d gotten for her sixteenth birthday. Alexei followed, taking time to securely buckle himself in. No one in their family was entirely comfortable with cars, not after what happened to their mother and sisters. But it was a necessary evil.

After a nerve-wracking ride, Anya dropped Alexei off at the middle school. He gave her a weak smile as he unbuckled his seat belt, and she returned it with a quick kiss on his forehead. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Anya let out a shuddering sigh. Every first day of school got easier, but watching her little brother leave for hours on end was never comforting. 

As she made her way to the high school parking lot, Anya’s hands began to tremble again. She pushed the gear into park. A tear appeared on the steering wheel. Anya’s hand darted to her face, quick to erase any evidence of her emotions. Her guts felt like a wildfire and a hurricane wrapped into one. This was her first day of school without Olga. Her millionth day of school without Tatiana, without Maria, without her mother. Anya’s hand shook as she pulled the key from the ignition and pushed open the car door. 

Walking up the stairs to school had never felt so hard. With Olga gone, who would Anya run to in the middle of the day when the sadness became too much to bear? When Anya failed to make friends for the fourth year in a row? When her inability to connect emotionally with anyone-

Anya shook her head. Negative thinking would get her nowhere, especially not on her first day of junior year. She was practically an adult now, no matter how much she hated driving. She felt every step of her thrifted combat boots as they hit the dirty linoleum. Anya concentrated on keeping her head down, eyes focused on the floor in front of her, when-

“Watch it!” a voice commanded, sharp and biting. Its owner took in Anya’s harried expression and corrected. “Oh, it’s you.” 

Anya bit her lip. She had really hoped not to run into Gleb on her very first day- especially not literally. “Hi, Gleb,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

He gave her a freezing once-over. “Nice boots, _comrade_ ,” he sneered. 

Anya flushed, but she couldn’t spit out a witty comeback in time.

“Last I heard, she wasn’t the one runnin’ the fuckin’ Junior Marxists in her spare time.” 

An arm landed on Anya’s shoulder, the rest of Vlad’s body colliding with Anya’s back. She grinned at her best friend, relieved and slightly peeved that he had to come to her rescue once again. 

Gleb grimaced. “Always nice to hear from a dissident, Vladimir. And how exactly are the fruits of capitalism treating you these days?” His icy eyes trailed over Vlad’s tattered clothes and backpack straining at the seams. 

Vlad opened his mouth to respond, but another familiar figure rounded the corner. Anya had to steel herself to keep from gasping. Dmitri, Gleb’s (ex?) partner, had obviously undergone a metamorphosis over the summer. His long braid had vanished, replaced with a daring undercut and curls that bounced at the top of his head. Gleb slid his arm around Dmitri, pulling him close in the crowded hall. 

Dmitri nodded at Anya. Her mouth became very dry all of a sudden. It was fine. Everything was fine. 

“Hey, Sasha,” Gleb said, his voice lower. 

Dmitri made a sour face. “I told you I hate that name,” he hissed. 

Gleb rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to have this argument here.” His attention turned back to Anya. “I was just telling miss Anastasia how wonderfully her boots will fit in at the commune!”

Dmitri quirked his mouth in an approximation of a smile. He tugged at Gleb’s hand. “Come on, we should head out.” They left, Gleb gracing them with one last smirk. 

“What an asshole,” Vlad said, his arm still draped around Anya’s shoulders. They turned down the hall, Vlad offering encouraging platitudes to Anya’s shattered confidence. Anya just wondered why Dmitri was still with Gleb, putting up with his shitty treatment day after day.

\-----------------------------

Anya barely registered anything her teachers said all day. She collected all the papers shoved at her, signed all the necessary forms, and offered an easier name for her teachers to pronounce. But her mind was wandering. Wandering through the hospital where her mom and sisters had ended up, down the halls of Gleb’s childhood home, where she had spent so many hours before Gleb decided that Anya was no longer worth the effort, and up the stairs in her house to her sisters’ dusty doors, the many hours she’d spent standing outside, staring. 

She drifted through the halls, letting her instincts guide her down the familiar brightly-lit hallways to the cafeteria. She pushed open the door, and the magnitude of people and noise inside instantly activated her anxiety. Her heart beat fast, fast, faster as she swiveled, trying desperately to find a familiar face. Somewhere, anywhere. 

Vlad was nowhere to be seen, but Anya knew where she would find a friendly face. 

\-------------------------------------

“Is this seat taken?”

Grigori looked up from his survey of the local grasses at his feet. He smiled as his gaze drifted over Anya.

“Yeah, for you.”

She slid her bag to the ground and got her lunch out. “Carrot?”

He took her offering and ate it with a resounding crunch. Anya relaxed, her heart slowing. It felt just shy of normal. 

They sat side by side in comfortable silence. At least, Anya assumed it was comfortable for him. All she could think was the spectre of Olga sitting between them, and all the history she held. 

After several silent minutes, the bell rang, and Anya slung her bag over her shoulder. Grigori gave her an acknowledging nod, and she went on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!! find me on twitter @lesbianastasia


	3. (i want you to) ruin my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes wrong for Anya.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: “lonesome love” by mitski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anya is a disaster and so much fun to write

The rest of the day passed without note. Or if there had been something, she wouldn’t have noticed it. The Anya who was capable of paying attention in class was curled up inside her brain, picking at each and every errant thought and worry. Anya couldn’t pull her out of the depths of her mind no matter how hard she tried to focus. 

By the time school was out and Alexei had made his way from the middle school to her car, the ability to think had still not returned to Anya. She closed her eyes for a second, trying her best to remember all the little steps involved in operating a motor vehicle. Turn the key, release the parking brake, shift into reverse, let off the brake, and-

“Hey!” a voice called out from behind the car. Anya clenched her teeth as she saw Dmitri’s face in her rearview mirror. _Check my mirrors. Shit._

Dmitri wasted no time in circling her car to tap on her window. She slowly rolled it down, dreading this interaction more than usual. 

“Uh… hi,” she said, her voice already quivering. 

“Hi,” Dmitri said, his ordinarily chipper voice tinged with irritation. “Do you usually run people over with your car before the first date?”

The teasing, usually light enough for Anya to handle, grated on her already thin nerves. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not completely comfortable with using my mirrors yet.”

Dmitri nodded. “Well, hopefully the next time I see you, you won’t be trying to kill me.” He gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher, then continued on his way. 

Alexei looked at her curiously. “Who was that?” 

Anya shook her head. “No one. Don’t worry about it.” She let her hands drop from the wheel.

Alexei tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“We’re not leaving till this parking lot is empty,” Anya replied, swallowing hard to keep herself from crying. 

\----------------------------------------------------

The rest of the first week passed without much incident. Anya kept floating by, barely noticing the world around her. The voice in her head wouldn’t shut up, repeating the same refrain over and over. _Olga’s gone Olga’s gone Olga’s gone there’s nothing you can do to help her protect her she’s all alone in Russia probably freezing to death-_

 _Shut UP!_ Anya wished. She clenched her pencil and pulled her thoughts together to concentrate on the brainless algebra problem she was working on.

\---------------------------------------------------

Friday night found Anya and Alexei laying on their couch, mindlessly watching West Wing. It was a family tradition, despite its complex political nature. Anya’s mother had always had a taste for politics, and while her father didn’t share that same inclination, he admired the show’s dramatic side. 

After several particularly rambunctious episodes, Alexei turned to Anya lying next to him on the couch. “You know, Anya…” he started, his voice tentative. 

“What?” Anya asked, turning to face him.

‘Well,” he continued, “it’s Friday night. I’m eleven, and I turned down other plans to do this with you. You’re sixteen, and-” he hesitated, unsure whether to make the logical leap. “I don’t think you had anything else going on.”

“Alexei!” Anya started. “I love West Wing, and I love hanging out with you!”

Alexei smiled at that, but pressed on. “Maybe if you had a boyfriend, you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time.” A mischievous smile crept over his face. “And someone else could drive us to school.”

Anya rolled her eyes, but inside her heart thumped harder. The thought of a boyfriend terrified her, and not just because of her intimacy issues and her fears of commitment. Men- men were scary! And she’d never been close enough to one to get comfortable. Vlad didn’t count, obviously. He was her best friend.

A thought popped into her head.

One she’d struggled with many times before.

Men intimidated Anya, as a rule, but women-

Anya wasn’t scared of women.

Anya thought women were beautiful. Elegant, graceful creatures. The women that swept across Anya’s subconscious as she slept were nothing like the men that haunted her nightmares. The women of Anya’s dreams had soft hands, smooth hair, and sweet faces that smiled when they saw her. 

The men of Anya’s dreams were all ones she knew. Sydney, Pierre, Grigori, at her door, their hearts in their hands for her. She would swing open the door, invite her suitor inside. They would sweep in, pronounce their affection for her, and lean down to kiss her. As their face drew nearer, fangs slid from their mouth in a horrible grin. Blood seeped from their eyes. A hand would plunge into Anya’s chest to steal her heart. She would wake up, shivering and covered in sweat. 

She snapped back to the moment. Alexei had turned his attention to the TV. Anya rested her head on a nearby pillow and slowly fell asleep.

\------------------------------------------------

There were many things in life that Anya didn’t love, but running was close to the top. She wasn’t an athletic person to begin with, and the addition of hot sun and sweaty classmates just made it worse. 

Of course, having Vlad to run with made it a little better.

A little. 

“So I was thinking,” Vlad panted, “if you _really_ read between the lines of the latest bill the FCC is trying to pass,” he paused to take a deep breath, “they’re _encouraging_ piracy of internationally-created films in order to bolster America’s movie industry!”

Anya slowed her jog to a walk. “Really,” she gasped out, “Vlad? Tell me more.”

Vlad opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by footsteps behind them. Dmitri appeared behind Anya, his breath coming short. 

“Hey, Romanoff, I need to talk to you.”

Anya and Vlad’s heads turned to Dmitri in unison.

“Alone,” he clarified, waving his hand dismissively at Vlad, who scoffed and jogged off. 

Anya’s heart beat faster, rivaling the tempo of her half-assed running. “What’s up, Dmitri?” she asked, trying to maintain a semblance of cool and stability. 

Dmitri pulled something from his pocket and looked down at the ground. “I, uh, I’m sorry but I just don’t think of you that way.” 

Anya paused, confused.

“I mean, that kiss was hot for like, seventh grade, but that was years ago! And I’m-” he grimaced, “I’m with Gleb now, anyway, so even if I-”

Anya lunged forward and snatched the letter from his hand.

It was the one that she had tucked away safely in a hatbox, in her closet, never to see the light of day. And yet, somehow, it was here.

In her hand.

And Dmitri Suganov had received it in the mail, read it, and came to talk to her about it. 

About her feelings.

Anya’s thoughts rushed into a frantic storm of all her worst nightmares, and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on twitter @lesbianastasia !!
> 
> if you have any issues with my writing PLEASE feel free to comment!


	4. look what happened to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya does something about it.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "details" by maisie peters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a little short but the action is Coming

“Hey! Hey, Anya!”

Anya’s eyes fluttered open. Above her, close, too close, was Dmitri’s not blood-and-fang-filled mouth. Anya sat up, bewildered as to how she ended up crashed on the track. 

Dmitri knelt by her, placing a tentative hand on her knee. “Are you okay? You just fainted all of a sudden.” 

Anya let herself fully take in the situation: running, Dmitri pulling her aside, the letter... The letter! 

She whipped her head to Dmitri. “Suganov, you should know-”

Behind Dmitri’s head, Anya saw another figure.

One that she knew better than herself.

One who had _definitely_ received a letter.

Grigori. 

His dark eyes pierced through her fragile disguise. 

He knew.

He knew.

_Oh shit._ Anya couldn’t make sense of all this. She couldn’t process everything that was going on. This was never supposed to happen. There was no way out of this one, no sneaking off into a quiet corner to contemplate. 

Grigori took a step towards her.

Without fully processing what she was doing, Anya grabbed Dmitri’s face and pushed him down onto the track, kissing him hard. Funny that he was her first kiss, and now here they were again. Mouth to mouth, nerves rattling. 

Not alone.

Anya came up for air, glancing at where Grigori had been standing. She caught a glimpse of his retreating figure. Below her, Dmitri sat up from his dazed position on the track. 

Anya turned to him. “Thank you,” she said, quite frankly. He blinked at her a few times, his usual bad-boy charm dismantled. “You’re welcome,” he responded, with the same flat tone. 

Anya jumped up and ran off.

\--------------------------------------------

Anya slammed the bathroom stall door. Still in her gym clothes, she hugged herself and paced around the tiny stall. _This was never meant to happen. Shit, shit, shit!_

Her thoughts flowed in an endless circle of profanity and panic. Her fourth go around was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open. 

“Anya? Are you in here?”

_Shit._

The voice, rather out of place in a girls’ bathroom, belonged to Vlad.

“Hey Vlad,” Anya managed weakly. The one fucking guy in her life that she hadn’t sent a stupid letter to. 

“I saw you run in here, are you okay?” Vlad pressed, bending down to peer under the stall door. Anya sighed and pushed the door open. 

“Yeah, it’s just, I did something really stupid. Like REALLY stupid. Like four different stupid things.”

Vlad leaned against the sink, arms crossed. “What’s up?”

Anya let out a shuddering breath and faced the mirror, sweeping her disheveled hair out of her eyes. “So a long time ago, I would write letters to guys I had crushes on. I did it cause I was lonely, and I had no idea how to actually _talk_ to them, or if I even wanted a relationship at all, or-”

She shook her head and realigned her train of thought.

“Anyway, I put these letters in a box in my closet. No one was ever supposed to see them, but they were there to help me deal with my feelings.”

Anya spun to face Vlad, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “And now, somehow, the very people who were never supposed to see the letters have them in their hands. And my life is over, officially!”

Vlad put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. “Hey, it’s not that bad. Who did you send them to?”

This question sent Anya over the edge. All the anxiety welling up in her spilled over, shaking her shoulders and shortening her breaths. “D-Dmitri and, and, and, Gri-Grigori, and, and,” her sobs wouldn’t let her continue. 

Next to her, Vlad sucked in a shocked breath. “I mean, that’s not _great_ , considering Dmitri is with fucking _Gleb_ and your sister just broke up with Grigori, but, I mean, it could be worse.”

Anya pulled her head from her hands to look at him desperately. “ _How_ could it possibly be worse?”

Vlad sighed. “I was just trying to comfort you. Come on, let’s get changed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! find me on twitter @lesbianastasia


	5. i'd rather you hate me than not understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya has to make a choice. 
> 
> Instead, she remembers.
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "bad ideas" by tessa violet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! it's about to get good

Anya threw herself down on her bed. It had been the longest day of her goddamn life. 

The doorbell rang from downstairs.

Alexei’s high voice called up, “Anya! It’s Grigori!”

Anya hissed a quiet _shit_ and jumped off her bed. A stupid plan began forming in her mind.   
Anya yanked open her window and climbed onto the roof.

She quickly lost her footing and rolled off into the bushes.

Luckily, her house wasn’t that tall, and Anya got up with a bruised tailbone and bruised pride. She hopped onto her bike, wincing as she hit the seat. Within ten minutes, she arrived at the old-timey diner she and Vlad frequented. Parking her bike at the side of the shop, she pushed open the door, wincing at the ringing bell. She hated having her presence announced.

Anya slid onto a stool at the bar and ordered a soda. It might not solve her problems, but it would calm her nerves enough to think of an exit strategy. 

“Romanoff?”

Anya quickly refocused her attention on her drink. _Why, of all places in the fucking world, did Dmitri goddamn Suganov have to be here?_

“Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Anya looked up to see his face uncomfortably close to hers. 

Leaning back, she managed to sputter out, “Um, hi.”

Noticing her discomfort, he pulled away. “Do you wanna talk about what happened on the track today?”

Anya quickly shook her head. “Uh, no thanks, and I really gotta-”

“Hey, I’m not letting you get away again. I wanna talk about this letter.” He slid the offending article out of his pocket and onto the counter. 

“I, um, really _don’t_ want to do that,” Anya said, continuing to sip her drink.

Dmitri cleared his throat. “Well, it’s really very flattering, but like I said before, I’m with Gleb, and I never really thought of you that way-”

Anya cut in. “I don’t- I don’t feel that way anymore, Dmitri. I wrote that years ago, as well as three other letters-”

“Hold on,” Dmitri interrupted. “Three other letters? Damn, you think you’re special, then you find out she wrote love letters to three guys!” 

Anya refocused on her soda.

“Also,” Dmitri continued, leaning closer to Anya, “if you’re over me, then what was this afternoon all about?”

Anya wished she could stop blushing. “Well, I wrote a letter to Grigori, and-”

Dmitri cut her off again. “Hold on. Yefimovich? Didn’t he used to date your sister?”

“Yes, and I was jealous, and these letters were never meant to be sent, anyway. He got one too and he saw us together, so I figured, if he thought I was into you, he wouldn’t worry about it.”

Dmitri opened his mouth to respond, but words seemed to fail him at the moment. “Ooo-kay,” he started. Anya narrowed her eyes at the idea forming in his mind. 

“Consider this,” Dmitri began. “You need to keep Yefimovich off your back. And when Gleb found out about what happened on the track, well, I’ve never seen him so jealous.” He paused to let Anya soak up his words. “So,” he looked directly at Anya, his eyes sparkling, “what I am proposing-”

“No,” Anya stopped him.

“I am proposing,” he pressed on, “that we _pretend_ to be in a relationship to solve your problem of many, many, _many_ love letters, and mine of Gleb’s waning interest in our relationship.”

Anya couldn’t think of what to say. Pretend to date Dmitri? She’d never even really dated anyone!

“Take some time to think about it,” Dmitri said, pulling his bag off the back to the stool. “Later, Romanoff.”

\---------------------------------------------------

Anya threw herself into the well-defined dent on her bed. Only this time, it wasn’t out of grief or anxiety or pure exhaustion. 

Anya Romanoff was confused. 

She slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard, pulling her knees up to her chest.

And she remembered.

\------------------------------------------------

SIxth grade. Anya had been eleven, young for her grade. She had always felt behind, too young and immature to connect with her classmates. Always with her nose in a book. 

Her savior came in the form of a twelve-year-old boy, Gleb Vaganov. His father was a high ranking military official, and Gleb was extremely proud of this fact. (The man had always scared the shit out of Anya.) 

Gleb and Anya became practically inseparable. They spent every day together, bonding over their shared Russian heritage and fondness for reading. Gleb taught Anya everything he knew about military strategy, and Anya recited the plots of classic novels for him. 

In seventh grade, Gleb whispered to Anya that he had a crush on one of the girls in their class. It had been a younger Dmitri, who never really seemed to fit in or act like the other girls. Anya was too scared to talk to him (her, at the time), but she felt a strange attraction. She understood it as the fact that she didn’t have many friends, and she simply wanted more. 

Then that fateful night came. Gleb and Anya had been invited to one of their first boy-girl parties, and Gleb was excited at the prospect of Dmitri being there. Anya sat back and cheered him on from the sidelines, but somehow she got roped into a game of spin-the-bottle. 

Anya sat in the small circle of kids next to Gleb. Dmitri sat directly across from her. His hair at the time was always pulled back into a ponytail, but someone had gotten him to leave it down for the night. For some reason, looking at him made Anya’s stomach feel funny. 

The first few rounds went by with light giggling and awkward pecks. It came time for Anya to spin. Her hands trembled as she reached for the bottle, praying it would land on Gleb so she could give her best friend a chaste kiss on the cheek.

She spun, her thoughts whirling as quickly as the bottle.

It landed on Dmitri.

Anya’s heart sunk. She couldn’t do this! Gleb liked Dmitri! 

She shot a desperate glance at Gleb. “It-it’s okay, I can spin it again,” she offered, voice wavering. 

Dmitri leaned forward. “You have to follow the bottle, right?”

Anya gulped, looking at Gleb’s shocked face. She turned to Dmitri and leaned in, closing her eyes. 

The kiss was quick, not even a second, and the game continued. Anya’s head spun. She had just- kissed someone? Kissed _Dmitri?????_

Gleb wouldn’t talk to her for a week afterward, and when he did, it wasn’t like before. He shot bitter words that ripped into Anya. Her thoughts spun faster, her heart never slowing when Gleb was in the room.

She stopped trying to socialize, stopped leaving the house so much. Her stacks of books grew. School was hell, but she pushed through with the promise of having Olga the next year. 

Anya got good at keeping herself quiet and keeping her thoughts to herself.

\--------------------------------------

Now Dmitri wanted to shatter the peace they’d built up, tenuous as it was. Gleb might shoot barbed one-liners at her, but they barely even scratched the surface. A relationship with Dmitri, fake or not, would destroy both her anonymity at school and the vague armistice she held with Gleb. 

_But on the other hand_ , Anya thought, _it would give Grigori something else to think about_. She couldn’t handle the idea of Grigori knowing about her feelings, but there was no way she would be able to talk to him about it. 

For Anya, faking it with Dmitri was the only solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol @ the casablanca ref i am #cultured


	6. tell me, do you think about me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya negotiates. Dmitri isn't happy.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "18" by EXES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the action begins! enjoy

Anya stood at the edge of the soccer field the next morning, heart in her throat. Making up her mind had seemed easy alone in her room, but actually facing Dmitri was a whole different story. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, willing her nerves to settle down. _Heart, don’t fail me now_ , she hoped, and opened her eyes. 

Dmitri was standing at the opposite end of the field in the soccer goal. Anya was not exactly a sports expert, but she figured that meant he was the goalie. 

She took a first confident stride towards him, ignoring the stares of his teammates. All too soon, she was just feet away from him. He looked up at her in surprise. 

Anya cleared her throat. “Hey Suganov,” she started. “I’ll do it.”

It took a moment to register on his face, but once he realized what she meant, he grinned. That ear-to-ear, million-watt smile Anya had always secretly melted at. He bent down to her, and Anya’s already quickly-beating heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. He slid his hand into her hair and kissed her hard. She followed his lead, pushing back into the kiss. After a few seconds that passed much too quickly, Dmitri pulled back and grinned at her. She swallowed, and let go of his hand. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it. 

Anya took a step back and walked off the field, waving her hand in a “nothing to see here” gesture. Maybe this fake relationship thing wouldn’t be too bad after all.

\-------------------------------------------

Anya wandered into the hallway as usual, ready to drift her way to lunch. She pushed open the cafeteria doors and got ready to face the crowd, when a hand grabbed her wrist. She spun around defensively, ready to face her attacker. Dmitri placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. 

“Hey, hey,” he laughed, “it’s just me.”

Anya sighed and pulled her ponytail tighter. “Hey, Su- Dmitri.” Now that they were “dating,” she should probably refer to him in a more affectionate manner. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go someplace more private.” Without leaving time for her to respond, he laced his fingers through hers and pulled her outside, over to a somewhat secluded picnic table. 

She laid her bag on top of the table and got out her lunch. A thought struck her as she spun to face Dmitri, who was sitting on top of the table. 

“If we’re going to do this,” she began, “we should lay down some rules.” She pulled out a sheet of notebook paper. 

Dmitri chuckled. “Really, Romanoff?” 

Anya scowled at him. “Yes. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, and I don’t want all my firsts to be fake.” 

Without bothering to look at Dmitri’s response, she wrote RULES at the top of the paper. 

“One: no kissing.” 

“What?” Dmitri protested. “No one is going to believe we’re in a relationship if we don’t kiss.”

Anya crossed her arms. “This is non-negotiable. Like I said, I don’t want all my firsts to be fake!”

Dmitri sighed. Anya scoured her thoughts to think of a suitable replacement. 

Then it hit her. 

“How about this? You can put your hand in my back pocket.”

“What?” Dmitri leaned towards her, his face screwed up in confusion. “What are we, eighty? No way!” He slid forward, his legs moving forward to bracket Anya. She was suddenly reminded of the feeling of his mouth on hers, his fingers tangled in her hair. She tried her best to keep from blushing. 

Seeing her reaction, Dmitri smirked. “I’ll tell you what, princess.” He let the nickname fill her ears, let her fully process it. She fought down a whole mix of confusing emotions, from anger to arousal to affection. “I’ll hold your hand when we walk together, and you kiss me on the cheek.”

In her flustered state, Anya could only agree. She nodded, not sure that she could keep a level voice, and wrote the new rules down. 

“I know!” Dmitri burst out. “I’ll write you notes. Gleb always wanted me to do shit like that for him. He’d hate it if he knew.”

Anya frowned at the comparison, but wrote it down anyway.

“Oh, and you have to come to any parties the soccer team throws,” Dmitri added. 

Anya twisted her mouth in discomfort. “I don’t go to parties.” 

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “That’s cause you’ve never been invited to any! Come on.” 

Anya sighed. “Fine. But you have to come to movie nights with my family.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a bad idea. Getting their families involved would only make the whole thing messier. But it just felt right. 

She set to writing down each addition. 

“Oh,” Dmitri cut in, “and you have to come on the ski trip.”

Anya looked up sharply. There was no way he was proposing that to her. The ski trip (which was in _December_ , by the way) was famous for all the sex that went on. “Why? There’s no guarantee we’ll still be doing this by then.”

“Yeah. but if we are, there’s no way that any girl would let her-” his voice faltered, “would let her boyfriend go on the trip without her.”

Anya looked into his eyes, seeing the insecurity and uncertainty inside. “Fine,” she replied, “it’ll be our contingency plan. If we’re still doing this in December, I’ll go on the ski trip with you.” She added it to the list. 

In the distance, the bell rang, sounding the end of lunch. Anya began putting her things back into her bag. Dmitri hopped off the table, grabbing his bag as he went. When Anya stood up, he offered his hand to her. Slowly, and without looking him in the eye, she took it. 

They made their way back to the building, hand in hand. Neither said anything, minds too full of heavy thoughts to make light conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on twitter @lesbianastasia


	7. these colors make my eyes hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya relents. Dmitri fights.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "for a while" by fenne lily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot eats cool treats welcome to the drama

The next day, Anya and Alexei stepped outside their house. Alexei smiled impishly up at her. 

“You’re gonna drive again today?”

Anya smiled back, hers genuine. “Nope!”

Alexei sighed. “We’re taking the bus?”

Anya smiled again. “Nope,” she said, and gestured to Dmitri’s car in the driveway. 

Alexei’s jaw dropped. “I could get used to this!”

Anya and Alexei climbed into Dmitri’s car, an older model of some emasculating brand Anya couldn’t identify. She squeezed Dmitri’s hand that lay on the gear shift. He grinned at her and turned to Alexei in the back seat. 

“Hey, I’m Dmitri,” he offered.

Alexei looked at him analytically. “I’m Alexei. Why are you driving us?”

Dmitri laughed slightly. “I’m her boyfriend!”

Anya nearly choked on her water in the front seat. 

It was going to be a long ride.

\----------------------------------

Anya had only just stepped into school when Vlad pulled her aside. 

“What? You and Suganov?” he prompted, eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

 

Anya blushed. “Yeah, I mean, what can I say?”

Vlad laughed. “So those letters worked? I mean, obviously you’re much more of a catch than Gleb, but still…” he trailed off. 

Dmitri slid his arms around Anya’s waist, making her jump. “Oh, hey, Dmitri,” she said, remembering just in time to feign affection. 

Dmitri nodded at Vlad. “Sup, man?” he said, trying to reach across the social divide that seemingly separated them. Vlad nodded in response, displaying some facade of normalcy. 

Dmitri released Anya’s waist and grabbed her hand, leading her down the hall. She waved goodbye to Vlad, who smirked back at her. 

\-------------------------------------------

Anya brushed the flour from her apron. It was hour three in the kitchen, making pyrizhky for Alexei’s bake sale. They were labor-intensive, sure, but she really wanted to get this right. Since Olga was gone, she had to fulfill the older sister/mom role. And these pastries were sure to outshine any cupcakes or brownies that the red-blooded American mothers were sure to bring. 

She sighed and pushed the hair back from her eyes, smearing flour across her forehead in the process. Just as she picked up the bowl full of apple slices, the doorbell sounded. Anya set the bowl back down and hurried to open the front door. 

Dmitri stood outside, wearing his trademark smirk. Anya let out a slow breath, trying to collect herself. The feelings inside of her swirled and mixed like flour and eggs in her dough. 

“You gonna let me in, princess?”

Anya gritted her teeth. That nickname made her feel something that she couldn’t quite identify. “Why are you here, Dmitri?”

He frowned, mock-offended. “The soccer party is tonight! Come on, I told you about this.”

Anya spun back into the house, Dmitri following. She swept into the kitchen, making a show of continuing her baking. “I don’t remember,” she said, evading his every advance with carefully placed steps. 

“Anya, it’s in the contract,” Dmitri sighed, placing a gentle hand on her arm. Startled by the sudden show of affection, Anya looked up at him.

Dmitri smiled, a softer version of his usual smirk. “It’ll be fun! Come on, it’d do you good to get out of the house once in a while.”

Anya huffed, placing her flour-covered hands on her hips. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to go to a party with people I don’t like, drinking sour beer and listening to music I don’t know.”

Dmitri shook his head in frustration. “I didn’t expect you to have such a pessimistic view of parties, for God’s sake! Just come!”

Anya opened her mouth to reply, but Alexei came sliding into the kitchen before she could.

“Is Dmitri taking you to a party?” he asked, innocently enough. Anya could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. She sighed yet again. 

“Yes, I am!” Dmitri responded brightly. 

Alexei grinned. “Anya, you should go! I can finish these pyrizhky!” He grabbed the bowl from in front of her. 

Anya groaned. “Fine,” she said, defeated, and took off her apron. 

\--------------------------------------

“I can’t do this. I can’t!” Anya whined, pulling away from Dmitri at the door to the party. He grabbed her retreating hand.

“Yes, you can. Come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve been to parties before.”

Anya searched her memory for the last party she’d been to. Honestly, it was probably that party in seventh grade before everything went sour, but she wasn’t about to tell Dmitri that. 

The anxiety that swirled in her stomach added another layer to the situation. Not only was Gleb likely to be at this party, but so would way too many other people that Anya didn’t know, probably intoxicated. There would be the pressure for her to drink too, and she had no idea how to even approach that. And the music would be too loud, she wouldn’t know where to sit or what to do with her hands, and Dmitri would disappear into the crowd and Anya would have no one to talk to, and-

“Anya? Are you okay?” Dmitri took a step toward her. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, trying to fake normalcy. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she began, attempting to keep her voice from trembling. It didn’t work. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay!” Dmitri said, touching her wrist gingerly. “It’s just a party. We don’t have to stay for that long.” He paused, as if unsure of what to say next. 

Then, without warning, he pulled the bow from Anya’s hair. “Your hair looks better down,” he said, sliding the bow into his pocket. Anya opened her mouth to protest, but he was already pulling her into the party.  
\-------------------------------------------

The party was just what Anya had been afraid of. Music bounced off the walls, filling her ears to a nearly unbearable volume. People milled around, sitting on every available surface and talking loudly. 

Dmitri squeezed her hand. “Stay here. I’ll go get you a drink.”

And just like that, he was gone. Just like Anya had been afraid of.

“Anya!” a voice called, deceptively cheery. Anya turned around, almost scared of what she would see. 

Gleb was spread out on the couch, arms spread across the cushions. A few feet away, one of his many friends sat in a similar manner. Anya tentatively made her way over. 

“Come on, sit down!” He invited, patting a nearby seat. Anya smiled weakly and took the seat. 

“So,” his unnamed friend leaned forward, “you and Suganov, huh? How far have you gone?”

Anya blinked. “What?”

The friend rolled their eyes. “You know, what have you done? Have you-”

Gleb cut in. “Save it. It’s _obvious_ they haven’t done anything.”

Dmitri rounded the couch holding two plastic cups. “Hey, Gleb,” he said, voice icy. He handed a cup to Anya and put his arm around her. Gleb scowled and got up, shooting his friend a look. The friend in question jumped up and left without another word.

Dmitri sighed. “I wish he wasn’t like that all the goddamn time.”

Anya, not knowing what to say, took a tentative sip from her cup. 

It was horrible. 

“Ugh! Is beer supposed to taste so vinegary?” she spit, frowning at her cup. 

Dmitri let out a short laugh. “No! That’s kombucha.” He exchanged their cups. 

Anya looked at him quizzically. “You drink kombucha?”

He nodded. “I have to drive home, remember?”

\----------------------------------------------

Anya shifted nervously in her seat. Dmitri had been gone for a long time. Her nerves really couldn’t handle much more of this constant noise and crowd. 

Her mind started to wander. To her sister, to Alexei, to Grigori, to Vlad, to anything that wasn’t this fucking party. 

Where _was_ Dmitri?

\--------------------------------------

Dmitri was drying his hands when the bathroom door opened. 

“Um, occupied?” he said, turning towards the intrusion. 

Gleb slid into the room and closed the door. 

“So, Romanoff, huh?” Gleb asked, leaning back on the counter.

Dmitri sighed and took a step towards him. “Why do you care, Gleb? We’re through.”

Gleb moved closer to Dmitri until their faces were just inches apart. “You never struck me as a _lesbian_ , Sasha, but-”

Dmitri gritted his teeth. “I _told_ you to stop fucking call me that name, Gle-”

Gleb cut him off with a kiss. Dmitri’s eyes widened in surprise, but Gleb only pressed closer. He slid his hand into Dmitri’s pocket, finding Anya’s bow. 

Dmitri pulled back sharply, pushing Gleb away. “Seriously, Gleb, listen to me. You refuse to understand anything I say about-”

He stopped when he saw the bow dangling from Gleb’s fingers. 

“Seriously, Gleb, give that back. Don’t fuck with me right now.”

Gleb smirked at Dmitri, pocketing the bow. “You know what? I think I’ll keep it for a little while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!


	8. i've learned to lose you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya saves face. Dmitri wonders why. 
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "human" by dodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hashtag drama ensues

Dmitri appeared after what felt like hours. Anya jumped up, never so relieved to see him. However, her excitement died down when she saw the sour look on his face. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but something in his expression told her not to push it. 

He slid his hand into hers and pulled her out the door to his car. They drove in tense silence, Anya trying to work up the nerve to ask what was wrong. By the time she had gotten herself together, they had parked in the parking lot of the diner they’d met at just a few weeks ago. 

Anya shivered a little, odd in the warm October air. It wasn’t like Dmitri to go this long without talking. _Something must be weighing on him pretty heavily to maintain this silence._

They entered the diner and sat at a table near the door. Anya ordered a soda, but found herself unable to drink it. She started fidgeting with the straw wrapper, searching her thoughts for anything to say.

“Say, Anya,” Dmitri said suddenly, causing Anya’s head to snap up. 

“Yeah?” she responded, hesitant. 

“Why have you never gone out with anyone before?”

Anya blinked once, twice, trying to understand the question. 

“I- I guess, no one has ever been interested in me before,” she said, making her peace with that depressing reality.

“Bullshit,” Dmitri said, his attention now entirely focused on Anya. “I know for a fact that Sergei Ipolitov asked you to the spring formal last year, and you turned him down.” 

Anya colored, her lie so easily discarded. _I guess I’m not as invisible as I thought._

She turned her attention back to her hands, trying to distract herself from the truth. After a beat, she opened her mouth in an attempt to answer. It took a moment for the words to come out.

“See, the thing about romance is, I love to read about it and write about it, and it’s fun to hear about, but actually being involved in it is…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“Scary?” Dmitri pressed. “It’s scary for everyone.”

Anya looked back up, but couldn’t manage to focus on Dmitri. For some reason, her nerves weren’t screaming at her like they usually would be, talking about such a sensitive topic. 

“Yeah, but... “ she glanced just to the left of Dmitri’s head, focusing on a neon sign across the street. “The more people you let into your life, the more that can just… walk right out.” She bit her lip to keep herself from crying at all the pain that welled up behind that statement.

Dmitri nodded, his face grim. “Your mom, right? And your sisters?”

Anya returned his nod, looking back down at the table. “Yeah. And it was years ago, but it still… It still hurts. And it’s still hard, especially with-” her voice broke at the thought of Olga being gone. 

Dmitri looked at her like she was drowning, and he had no idea how to swim, like he was miles away. “It doesn’t have to be fine. It’s a huge thing, and… I’m sorry for mentioning it.” 

Anya cleared her throat. “No, it’s good for me to talk about it. Didn’t your dad- I mean, a few years ago-”

Dmitri cut her off with a nod. “Yeah. He just left one day and never came back. Obviously it’s not as bad as you, but, you know.” He looked at anywhere but Anya, as though he would rather talk about anything else. 

“Yeah, but it must still hurt.” Anya reached out to touch his hand, to comfort him, but couldn’t quite follow through.

Dmitri was silent for a moment. He turned his gaze back Anya. “If you’re so afraid of relationships and intimacy, then why are you so okay with this?” He punctuated his sentence by gesturing between them, indicating their “relationship.”

Anya smiled, ready to rebut his ridiculous question. “That’s easy,” she began, but a lump grew in her throat before she could quite finish. She smiled to cover it up, and finished by saying, “This isn’t real!”

Dmitri blinked in surprise, as though he wasn’t expecting that response. As soon as it had left Anya's mouth, she knew it was a lie. There was something building in her, she just didn’t know what. 

Dmitri got up from his seat. “Of course,” he said gruffly. “I should get home, I need to call Gleb.”

Anya stared up at Dmitri. “You still talk to him on the phone?”

Dmitri glanced back down at her. “I mean, not as often as we used to, but from time to time.”

Anya stood quickly, pushing in her chair with a loud squeak. Dmitri looked up at her from his phone. 

“What?”

She crossed her arms, not quite knowing how to articulate this feeling. “I just- I just think it’s weird that you still call your ex-boyfriend when you’re dating me.”

Dmitri sighed, putting his hand to his forehead in frustration. “Anya, it’s not like that.”

Anya was trying so hard not to be the bitchy girlfriend, she really was. But even in a fake relationship, she couldn’t handle this blatant disrespect. “You’re way too attached to him. It’s unhealthy.”

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “What would you know, Miss Afraid-of-Love?”

Anya narrowed her eyes, trying to look threatening. It never worked because of her wide eyes and childlike stature, but goddammit, she could try. “Prove it, then. Don’t call him tonight.”

Dmitri scoffed, but Anya knew he was thinking about it. “Fine.”

\--------------------------------------------------

Anya sank down onto her bed after Dmitri dropped her off. Despite Gleb’s harassment, Dmitri’s silence, and bitter alcohol, Anya had enjoyed the night. 

The buzz of her phone broke her out of her thoughts. A notification popped up, showing that Dmitri had tagged her in a photo. Opening it, Anya saw a stupid selfie he had taken at the party of them together. The caption read, “she’s my cherry pie.” Anya rolled her eyes at the caption. For a fake boyfriend, he sure did make a genuine effort. She commented, “you are _such_ a dork!”

Climbing into bed, Anya wondered if this warm feeling was what it was like to have a real relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a playlist for all the chapter soundtracks! find it at   
> https://open.spotify.com/user/mguthrie157/playlist/1y3qwAV1NsdPU6cREte3zi?si=qpJdrPYUT3CaDXh91PKeWg


	9. our antebellum innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya and Dmitri have an honest conversation.
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "architecture" by maisie peters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my fave scenes from the movie i hope yall enjoy!
> 
> please listen to this chapter's soundtrack!! the song was the only thing i could think of writing this chapter!! it just captures the vulnerability and intimacy and fear so well i'm insulted they didn't use it in the movie

Anya yanked at her sleeve, her nerves making it hard for her to keep still. She reached up and rang the doorbell. 

Almost immediately, Dmitri opened the door. Anya let out a little laugh. 

“What, were you waiting by the door?” she asked, stepping inside.

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “Come into the kitchen, my aunt wants to meet you.”

Anya made her way into the cozy kitchen, glancing around the house as she went. It was rough around the edges, but clearly furnished with love. 

Dmitri’s aunt was warm and sweet, and exclaimed over just about anything Anya said. His cousin was Alexei’s age, but quiet and withdrawn. 

They all sat down at dinner, Anya anxious with the pressure of impressing Dmitri’s family. She tried her best to smile when she was supposed to, laugh when prompted, and follow all the rules of normal societal exchanges.

Dmitri’s aunt smiled at her. “You have a sister and a little brother, right? Your mother must love having girls.” 

Dmitri grimaced, and turned to his aunt. “I told you, Anya’s mom died when she was little,” he almost hissed. 

Shock overtook her face. “Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry!”

Anya smiled, a little sadly. “Oh no, it’s fine. My mom did love having so many girls.”

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly, albeit awkwardly. Dmitri’s family left afterward, Anya and Dmitri promising to clean up the kitchen and ushering them out. They cleared the table in amicable silence.

They talked in low voices as they loaded the dishwasher, wiped down the counters. When they were finished, Anya perched herself on the counter, swinging her legs gently. 

“Your parents, huh?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Dmitri turned away from the sink, drying his hands and walking to join her. “Yeah,” he said, his voice not exactly mournful. “I mean, my mom died giving birth to me. It’s not that sad, ‘cause I never knew her.” He turned away. 

“But sometimes,” his voice cracked, “sometimes I think about what my life would’ve been like with a mom. With someone who took care of me, who treated me like I was special.” He paused for a second, his throat revealing his feelings. 

He spun back to Anya, his eyes glistening in the low light. She scooted forward on the counter, wanting to reach out and comfort him. 

“And my dad, well... He did his best, I guess. He wasn’t ready to be a single dad, and he really relied on my aunt. Until finally he dumped me on her and left.” Dmitri moved closer to Anya, resting his hand on the counter next to her. 

“I’m really sorry, Dmitri,” Anya said, sliding her hand closer to his. 

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dmitri said, not seeming to notice her hand. “I was mad at him for the first year or so, and I guess I still am, deep down. But it must’ve been hard on him, and I don’t really blame him.” He looked up at Anya. Somehow, she didn’t blush. 

He looked back down at himself. “Maybe if I’d had a male presence in my formative years, I wouldn’t have ended up like this,” he laughed. 

Anya looked at him curiously. “Like what?”

Dmitri glanced at her. “Like, you know. Dating women.” He slumped against the counter, his back arching. “I guess I never explained myself to you, huh? You must be so confused all the fucking time.”

“I mean, I don’t really get your whole relationship with gender, but it’s not an issue for me,” Anya said truthfully. 

“Yeah, but I feel like I at least owe you an explanation. I mean, I don’t need to explain myself to anyone, but I at least want _you_ to understand.” He shifted closer to Anya. 

“So, obviously, I was assigned a girl at birth. That’s how you met me. But after I got with Gleb, my first ever relationship, I realized that I wasn’t really into guys. But I kept denying it, cause I didn’t want to end up _gay_ , you know?” Dmitri laughed. “But I couldn’t do anything about that but deny it. And as I thought about my sexuality, my whole relationship with gender changed. And the whole Gleb thing just made it harder.”

Anya scooted closer to him. “So what did you end up realizing?”

Dmitri slid his hand closer to Anya’s. “It took a while. But I know I like women. Obviously,” he laughed. “But I’m not, like, a guy, you know? But I’m not really a girl either. It’s hard to pin down. I like wearing ‘guy’ clothes and being called ‘he’, but I’m not a guy, if that makes sense?”

Anya nodded. “So are… Are you a lesbian?”

“Yeah, that’s what fits best for me, I think,” he said. “What about you?”

Anya laid her hand on top of his. He looked up at her. “I don’t really know,” she said hesitantly. _But I know I like you._ “But I’m figuring it out,” she finished. 

Dmitri smiled. “I mean, you did write a bunch of love letters to guys. That seems pretty straight to me. But you seem okay with, you know, being with me.” He looked away from her. “A straight girl wouldn’t be that comfortable, I think.” His eyes drifted back to her. “But it’s not my job to decide that for you.”

Anya nodded. They sat in silence for a moment. 

Dmitri curled his fingers around hers. “It’s really nice having someone to talk to about this stuff,” he said, letting her hand go.

Anya slid off the counter and squeezed his hand. “Yeah, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love gender and sexuality exploration


	10. the anchor that you can't leave behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People have feelings.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "tied together with a smile" by taylor swift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooof

Vlad yanked Anya under the bleachers, laughing as she fell ass-first into the dusty grass. 

Anya groaned as she sat up. “Tell me again why we have to sit here?”

Vlad grinned as he brought out the contraband sandwiches. “We can’t just sit around flashing the Subway logo! We’d get caught in no time for trying to undermine the school’s monopoly on shitty lunch food.”

Anya grabbed her sandwich and snorted. “Or for skipping class.”

Vlad opened his mouth to fire off a witty retort, but stopped when he caught wind of the conversation happening on the bleachers above them. 

Anya looked at him quizzically, then recognized Dmitri’s voice. She turned her attention to the drama unfolding above them.

“-I’m just saying, why do you care? You’re off fucking countless college girls, why the hell do you need me?” Dmitri was saying, his voice tinged with anger. 

Gleb snorted. “You know they don’t mean anything to me. But you, Sasha, you keep-”

Dmitri cut in. “For the last _fucking_ time, Gleb-”

“I know, I know. But anyway, can’t you tell that all I want is you? I miss you, I miss us.”

Anya heard the bleachers shift as Gleb moved closer to Dmitri. It was a moment before Dmitri responded, his voice empty of emotion.

“I’m with Anya, Gleb. I’m not going to give her up for your shitty mind games, and your ‘not-technically-cheating,’ and all the other shit you put me through.”

Gleb scoffed. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that, right? You’re just with her to make me jealous, you don’t actually _like_ her.”

Anya’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Vlad scooted towards her. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “That’s your man! You can’t let Gleb do this!”

Anya gritted her teeth. “We should go. This sounds private.”

\---------------------------------------------

Anya hung her head. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. 

“What did you want to talk to me about, Anya?” Grigori asked, leaning against the hallway wall. 

“I just- I just wanted to talk to you. It’s been a while, and I need advice. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

Grigori looked at her, his gaze impossible to decipher. “Yeah, I’ve missed talking to you too. You’re always busy, with that Suganov guy. I never get the chance to see you.”

Anya sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “It’s- I need advice about him. He keeps going back to Gleb, and I- I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It feels like everything is falling apart.”

Grigori let out a short, barking laugh. “Yeah, no shit! I could have told you from the start exactly how this was gonna shake out. He says he likes you, but he’s just rebounding till fuckin’ Vaganov will have his sorry ass again. I say give up.”

The thought of losing Dmitri hit Anya harder than she thought it would. This was all fake, so why did it feel so real? Why did she like it when Dmitri took her hand walking through the halls? Why did she enjoy getting to know his friends, laughing when they told her about the ridiculous things Dmitri did? Why did she want to kiss him, when she had explicitly forbidden it?

Grigori pushed himself off the wall. “I know it’s hard, ‘cause he’s got you caught up in his web like everyone else. But it’s better for you to get out now before shit gets serious.”

Anya was trying to find the words to respond when footsteps sounded from around the corner. Dmitri approached, his gait wide and confident. 

“Anya?” he said, clearly surprised to see her talking to Grigori, who wasted no time in clearing out. 

Anya winced, knowing he wouldn’t be happy about their confrontation. 

She was right. As soon as Grigori was out of sight, he turned to Anya in irritation. “Why were talking to him? Do you know what people will say when they see my girlfriend talking to Yefimovich?”

His words stirred a wave of anger in Anya. This just wasn’t fair to her! 

“Oh? And what do you think people will say when they hear you professing your love for Gleb on the bleachers for anyone to hear?”

Dmitri took a shocked step back. “What? So you’re spying on me now?”

Anya clenched her fist. “I just happened to be near you! And why should I care what people say about me when you’re clearly not invested in this relationship?”

“What do you mean? We just did this to get Yefimovich off your back, and Gleb onto mine!”

“Well it’s worked, hasn’t it?” Anya said, her voice barely coming out through her gritted teeth. “Look, neither of us even expected this to go on this long. Why don’t we just call it quits?”

Even as she said it, she knew she didn’t mean it. There was nothing she wanted more than for their relationship to go back to normal, for her to feel wanted and special. 

Dmitri could hardly look at her. “Are you kidding? We can’t stop now! It’ll humiliate us both!”

Anya sighed in defeat. She could tell he wanted to work through this too. “Fine. How do we do that?”

“The ski trip, obviously,” Dmitri offered. 

Anya really couldn’t argue with that, but something inside her protested. Crossing her arms defensively, she said, “I’ll only go if Vlad goes.”

\---------------------------------------------------------

“Are you kidding, dude? You have to go!” Vlad threw himself across Anya’s couch. 

“What? Why?” Anya asked, surprised. Vlad hated school-sanctioned events and all things normal for a high school student. 

“‘Cause if you don’t go, Gleb is _absolutely_ going to get up to something with Dmitri. You cannot take that chance! That’s it, I’m going.” 

Anya threw herself across his lap, disappointed. “But I told Dmitri that precisely so I wouldn’t have to go! You were my last resort, and you’ve betrayed me.” She threw her arm over her face dramatically, modeling a heroine in a romance novel. 

“No excuses, Romanoff. You have to protect your man!” Vlad protested. “Come on, we gotta pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> casual homophobia lmao


	11. in the room that we were almost lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ski trip has some interesting results.
> 
>  
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "lovers" by anna of the north

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long one

As soon as they pulled up the school at 6:30 in the morning, Anya knew she had made a mistake. 

Anya’s father looked at her apathetically, clearly ready to go back to bed. “Well, go on,” he prompted, handing her her backpack from the backseat. Anya begrudgingly took it. 

“Have fun,” her father managed through a yawn. 

“Thanks,” she responded weakly, and shut the car door. Her father had never been one for affection or intimacy, but Anya had expected at least a little more for her first long trip away from home. 

Stepping onto the bus, Anya caught sight of Dmitri sitting by himself. She knew she was meant to sit next to him, but something in her refused to budge from their argument. She passed his seat, making her way to where Vlad was sleeping. 

“Hey!” Dmitri said, putting a gentle hand on her arm as she passed. Anya knew she couldn’t look at him and hold firm to her decision. She looked at the floor. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit with me?” Dmitri pressed. Anya shot a glance at Vlad. 

“I was gonna sit with him,” she offered weakly. “You know, make sure he doesn’t choke on his spit or anything.”

Dmitri looked defeated, but clearly didn’t have the energy to argue. Anya continued on her way, taking the seat next to Vlad. He slumped against her shoulder. 

“Why did I let you convince me to go on a trip that involved getting up before 7?” he groaned. 

Anya looked to where Dmitri was sitting. Gleb had boarded the bus. 

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, a smirk forming on his face when he noticed Anya sitting in the back. 

Dmitri glanced back at her. She looked away.

“No,” Dmitri said, adjusting himself so Gleb could sit next to him.

\--------------------------------------------

Anya lugged her suitcase into the lodge. Everyone was gathered in the lobby, waiting for an announcement from the “chaperone”. 

The person in question arrived, holding an armful of room keys. “You all have assigned rooms,” they said, pausing for dramatic effect. “But fuck that! Sleep where you want, sluts!” They threw the keys into the air. 

Anya sighed. She couldn’t use parental guidance as an excuse to avoid Dmitri now. 

Vlad elbowed her in the side. “Look at Gleb! You gotta do something about this or you’re gonna lose him.”

Anya looked to where Vlad was gesturing. Gleb was standing _very_ close to Dmitri, talking quietly in his ear. Dmitri didn’t seem entirely happy about it, seeming as though he would rather be anywhere else. His eyes skimmed over Anya, noticing her watching him. He turned his attention to Gleb.

Anya sighed. “I’m going upstairs.”

Vlad feigned surprise. “You’re not going skiing? Be still my beating heart!”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Come on, I have face masks.”

Vlad grabbed his suitcase and ushered her towards their room. 

\-------------------------------------------

Anya laid on her bed, a sheet mask dampening her face. “I just don’t know what to do. Dmitri doesn’t really seem to _like_ Gleb, and he treats him so shittily. So why does he keep going back?”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “I can guess. Gleb was his first. Guys never really get over that.”

Anya sat up, pulling the mask off. “Yeah, but it felt _real_. Like I know we were faking it, but it started to feel like he actually cared. And now he’s just back with Gleb, getting walked all over for whatever reason.”

Sitting up, Vlad looked Anya in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! If you can’t tell that he cares about you-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. 

Anya turned to face him. “What? What do you mean?”

Vlad pulled his mask off. “Anya, haven’t you seen the way he looks at you? How he acts when Gleb’s not around? How he does everything so carefully so he won’t fuck up your relationship? Hell, he’s probably been sitting in the hot tub for an hour waiting for you!”

Anya blushed. “You think he’s waiting for me in the hot tub?”

Vlad glared at her. “Of course he is! Now get out there.”

\----------------------------------------------------

Anya slowly pushed open the door to the outdoor hot tub area. Just like Vlad had predicted, Dmitri was sitting in the hot tub, arms draped over the edge. Anya gingerly made her way toward him, picking each step carefully. Her hands shook as she got closer. What was she doing here? 

But just like that first day she had feigned confidence crossing the soccer field, Anya screwed up her courage and climbed into the hot tub. Dmitri looked up at the disturbance, grinning when he saw Anya. 

“Hey there, princess,” he said, his smile bleeding into his voice. 

Anya tried her best to not let her voice waver. “Hey yourself,” she responded, adjusting to the warmth and jets of the tub. 

Dmitri gave her a once-over. “Are you wearing a nightgown?”

Anya smiled back at him. “I didn’t pack a swimsuit,” she said, inching closer to him.

The steam rising from the water in the cold December air made everything seem dreamy. All the nerves in Anya’s body calmed, and heat pooled in her chest. She ended up face-to-face with Dmitri, and he lifted her into his lap. 

“Hey,” she said again, unable to contain her awkwardness at such close proximity. He grinned again, and she leaned closer.

Their lips met, bumping in uncertainty at first. Dmitri slid his hands to Anya’s lower back, pulling her closer. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, resting at his hips. 

Dmitri pulled back for a breath, then pulled her back in with renewed passion. His hands moved across her back and stomach, always keeping respectful chastity in his motions. Anya slid her hands along his firm arms, just skipping past his chest.

They stayed in the tub for a while, steam obscuring the finer details of the night. Eventually, the heat became too much for them, and they climbed out, legs weak from the heat and stimulation. Anya leaned against Dmitri as they made their way back up to the rooms. 

When they reached Anya’s door, Dmitri leaned down to kiss her goodnight. The flush had since faded from Anya’s cheeks, but she felt just as warm as their lips met. 

Dmitri smiled, this time without his trademark teasing. A sweet, honest smile, that told Anya that this- tonight- was real. 

“Goodnight, princess,” Dmitri said, with a last squeeze of Anya’s hands.

“Goodnight,” she said, her tone as warm as her body.

\-------------------------------------------

As Anya walked onto the bus the next morning, she realized she had another choice to make. But this time, it was much easier.

She slid into the seat next to Dmitri, smiling at him in the early morning light. He smiled back. 

“I’m tired. Can I sleep on your shoulder?” he asked, already leaning towards her. She smiled wider, nodding slightly. 

A few minutes later, Gleb strode onto the bus. He scowled when he saw Dmitri leaning on Anya’s shoulder. Anya gave him a small smile. _Give me this one victory_ , she thought. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Anya bent down to pull her suitcase from the bus. When she stood up, Gleb was in front of her. 

“Um, hi,” she said, having no idea why he was there.

“Hello, Anya,” he said, the tone of a movie villain creeping into his voice. “Did you have a good trip?”

Anya smiled at him genuinely. “I did, thank you.”

He smiled back at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.” He turned away to retrieve his own luggage. Anya began to move away, but his next words stopped her.

“I just think it’s very, how should I say, _progressive_ of you to be fine with your partner spending the night in someone else’s room.”

Anya turned back, ready to ask him just what the hell he meant by that, but stopped when she saw her blue bow, the one Dmitri had taken from her, in his hand. He frowned at it, as if he was unsure of how it ended up in his possession. 

Anya stepped toward him. “Where did you get that?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He fixed her with a cold look. “Oh, isn’t it sweet? Dmitri gave it to me, but I have no use for such childish things.” Gleb dropped the bow into the gutter and walked away. 

Anya scrambled to rescue it, tears blooming in her eyes. Dmitri came up behind her. 

“Anya, are you ready to leave?” he asked, his voice still cheerful. Anya spun to face him, her face now wet. 

“What- are you okay?” Dmitri reached to touch her face, but she jerked away. 

“How _could_ you?” she hissed. “You went to his room? You told me you were done with him!” She clenched the bow in her hand. “And you gave him - you gave him my favorite bow! My _mother_ gave this to me!” She could barely speak through her tears.

Dmitri stepped closer, his face painted with grief. “Anya, please, I can explain. Let me take you home.”

Anya stepped back, sadness turning to anger. She shook her head. “I would rather walk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo emotions


	12. try to move closer, you'll only get halfway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is discovered.
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "better better" by EXES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the emotional climax!

Arms still shaking, Anya pushed open her front door. She took in the elaborate decorations, the dressed tree, the paper chain ringing the room, the lights sparkling from every corner. 

Alexei came running into the foyer. “Anya!” he cried, crushing her in a hug. 

“Hey,” she said, wishing the tears would dry from her face. “Did you do all of this yourself?”

Alexei grinned up at her. “I had some help,” he said.

“Hey Anya,” a familiar voice said from the stairs. 

Anya spun around to see Olga standing before her. Her eyes welled up with tears yet again, this time in happiness. She ran toward Olga, losing herself in her sister’s warmth and comforting presence. 

\--------------------------------

Anya was sitting cross-legged on her bed, wondering whether or not she should text Dmitri. _No, I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t. He fucked me over! Completely! I hate him!_

But for whatever reason, Anya just couldn’t get him out of her head. She threw herself back onto her bed, ready to utterly despair. Why did hormones have to wreck her judgment like this?

The doorbell rang. 

And again.

And again.

No one was answering it. Anya sighed and pulled herself off her bed, shuffling downstairs. She opened the door, and was greeted by Dmitri’s face.

She almost closed the door on instinct. He grabbed the edge of the door. “Anya, wait, just hear me out, please!”

The desperation in his voice made her stop. She opened the door and stepped outside. 

“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Look, I know you’re really upset about earlier, and you have every right to be! But if you’d just let me explain what was really going on-”

Anya cut him off. “I don’t want to hear this again! You just go back to Gleb again and again! I thought this time was different, but clearly not!” She took a step back.

Dmitri stood for a moment, a pained expression across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but Anya cut him off. 

“Maybe physical stuff isn’t a big deal to you, but it is for me! I only- I only came to you because I thought that what we had was real! But you just keep disappointing me!” She turned around, throwing her arms in the air. 

“God, I’m such an idiot. I really forgot that this was all fake.” Anya spun to face him. “What are you still doing here? Go running back to Gleb like you always do.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t want to see you.”

Dmitri took a step toward her. “Look, Anya, if-”

Anya shook her head and stepped away, eyes welling up. “I was anxious and inexperienced and scared when we started this, Dmitri,” she took a shaky breath, “but I wasn’t dishonest.” She turned back toward her house. “Go home, Dmitri.”

He took another step, searching her form for any kind of forgiveness. 

“Go home, Suganov.”

Anya’s head snapped towards the voice. Grigori walked out of the shadows, breath visible in the cold air. “You heard her.”

Dmitri spat out a laugh, looking between Anya and Grigori. “You think you’re involved in this? Just ‘cause she sent you a love letter doesn’t mean she wants you, Yefimovich!”

Anya bit her lip, trying to hold her tears back. “Don’t you dare bring that up now, Dmitri! Just go home!” She turned to Grigori. Just looking at him made her heart hurt. 

“Why?” Dmitri asked, his voice like ice. “Is it because you’re in love with him?”

“You’re in love with Grigori?” Olga said, her voice like an arrow through Anya. 

Anya spun around, seeing her sister shivering in the doorway. “Olga, no,” she began, but Olga had already run upstairs. 

Grigori watched her go with pain in his eyes. “I didn’t know she was home,” he offered weakly.

Anya bit back tears. “She finished her exams early. It was a surprise.” She followed Olga inside. 

The door slammed shut. Dmitri shut his eyes and looked up at Anya’s window. “It was never fake to me,” he whispered.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Olga’s door was locked. Anya didn’t even bother knocking. When Olga was mad, she was pissed, and there was no changing her mind. 

Anya went back to her own room, passing her sisters’ doors on the way. She gave them a mournful glance. They offered no solace, they never had, but something about the sight only hurt Anya more. 

She was about to throw herself onto her bed, but stopped at the last second. The Anya who did that was gone. A new Anya was forming, one who _did_ something about her pain instead of wallowing in it.

An Anya who was more like Olga. 

_Well, my life is a mess_ , Anya thought, _but I can clean my room_. 

And she got to work.

\------------------------------------------------------

When Olga had packed everything unnecessary into boxes and vacuumed the floor, Anya couldn’t understand why. But now that Anya’s life was falling apart, she got it. 

Over the next few days, Anya picked up everything off the floor. She organized her clothes by color and season, hung up all her bags, sorted her books. By the time her room was perfect, Anya’s mind was a little clearer. 

A knock sounded on her door frame. Anya looked up from her work to see her father.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Let’s go for a drive.”

\---------------------------------------------------------

Anya and her father settled in a table near the door at the diner, the same table she had sat at with Dmitri. They placed their orders, and Anya sat expectantly. Her father wasn’t one to show much affection, so this kind of moment was special. 

Anya’s father ran his hand over the jukebox. “I used to come here with your mother,” he began. His eyes seemed distant, stuck in the past. “Soon after we moved here from Russia, we discovered this diner. It looks just the same now,” he laughed. “Your mother would always play that song- ‘Rasputin’- and she’d dance in the aisle, playing it over and over till they kicked us out. It’s a silly song, but it made us laugh, like it was a little bit of Russia here with us.”

Anya smiled at him. She’d grown up with the record of that song, listening to _Nightflight to Venus_ over and over. It stirred something in her to know how much her mother loved the song. 

She fished a quarter from her pocket and slid it into the machine. Her father smiled at her. As the song started playing, they were both swept up into the warm memory of Anya’s mother.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Anya lay curled up on her bed. She’d successfully ruined every relationship in her life, and school hadn’t even started back up yet. 

She was just drifting off when a knock startled her out of sleep. She looked up to see Olga standing in her doorway. 

Anya sat up, clearing a space on her bed for her sister. Olga sat down gently at the edge of the bed, hesitant to move any closer. Anya patted the bed, inviting her to come closer.

Olga did, looking straight ahead. 

“Do you really love Grigori?” she asked, her voice empty of inflection.

Anya swallowed. “I did. Back when we were around each other all the time.” She looked at Olga. “But I don’t anymore. Not for a while.”

Olga met her gaze. “When were you going to tell me about Dmitri?”

Anya fought back tears at the mention of him. “I… we were never really together. We faked it so Grigori would think I was over him, and Dmitri had his own reasons.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t tell you because- because I was lying to everyone in my life, and I knew I couldn’t lie to you.”

Before Anya knew what was happening, Olga wrapped her in a hug. All the tears Anya had been pushing back came flooding out, much like when Olga had broken up with Grigori. 

Olga held her through it. They’d gone through so much worse together, but Anya was crumbling over this. It was the culmination of all her fears, all her worries, all her insecurities. Everything Anya had wanted to avoid in a relationship, everything she’d fought so hard to avoid, it had all happened. And Anya felt like she was drowning. But this time, Dmitri wasn’t there to save her.

A cough from the doorway stopped Anya’s thoughts in their tracks. She and Olga both turned toward the doorway, seeing Alexei standing there. 

Anya smiled at him despite the tears still running down her face. “How long have you been there?”

Alexei looked down sheepishly. “Not long…” he said.

Anya and Olga exchanged a glance. 

“Long,” he amended. Anya laughed and patted the bed. Alexei came bounding over. 

“Are you okay?” Alexei asked, wrapping his arms around his knees. Anya smiled, wiping her tears away.

“Yeah, I am now, I think,” she said. 

Olga pulled both of them into a hug. “No more secrets between us, okay?” 

Anya nodded, hugging Olga closer. 

Alexei pulled away, causing his sisters to look at him curiously. 

“Actually…” he started.

Olga gestured for him to continue. He looked down at the bed. “I was the one who sent out the letters.”

It took a moment for the words to register in Anya’s brain. When they did, she looked at Alexei without any emotion. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Alexei jumped off the bed, sprinting out of the room. Anya followed him, Olga yelling at her to stop. After a few moments of breathless chase, Olga ended up between Anya and Alexei. 

“Anya, stop. He’s your brother!”

“Please! I have so much left to live for!” Alexei cried from behind Olga. 

Anya gritted her teeth. “Fine. But you owe me big time.”

They all settled onto Anya’s bed. “Why did you do it?” Anya asked Alexei.

“You just seemed so lonely,” Alexei said honestly. “And I figured four shots at a boyfriend were better than one.”

Anya sighed. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He grinned at her. “It worked, though.”

Olga laid her hand on Anya’s arm. “If you didn’t want them to be sent, why did you address them?”

Anya blanched. Why _had_ she addressed them? 

“I- I guess deep down I wanted them to know, but I was too scared to actually do anything about it,” she admitted. That went for pretty much everything in Anya’s life, the fear of what could happen stopping her from making forward progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost there folks!
> 
> find me on twitter @lesbianastasia


	13. i'm drowning in your words the way i did right next to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gleb confronts. Anya realizes.
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "when the party's over" by billie eilish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hashtag drama ig

Anya had known it would be hard to go back to school after everything that had happened, but she knew she would have to face it eventually. 

Still, she hadn’t expected it to be like this.

When she walked into school (having subjected herself and Alexei to a nerve-wracking drive), she realized how lonely it would be without Dmitri and his friends, all the laughter and buoyancy they offered. 

Anya began looking for Vlad, someone to alleviate the loneliness, and ran headfirst into Dmitri. 

“Oh - I’m sorry,” she said, trying to move past him. 

“Anya, wait,” he said, catching her arm.

Anya tried to pull away, but something deep inside stopped her. What was she so afraid of?

She turned back to him. “What do you have to say, Dmitri?”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. _Maybe this is harder for him than he lets on._

“Anya, when we started this, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. You’re bright, and funny, and incredible, and so much more than I ever knew, but I kept going back to Gleb. I let you down, and I realize that now. It wasn’t fair to you for me to string you along like that.”

Anya’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected any of this. 

He looked up at her, eyes shining. “And that night on the trip, when I went to Gleb’s room, it was to tell him that we were done. That I didn’t want to do this dance with him anymore.”

He reached for her hand. “And I should have told you that.”

Anya pulled back. “I believe you, Dmitri, but I can’t just jump back in like this.” She put her hands in her pockets. “I have bridges I need to rebuild.” She stepped away, glancing at him one more time as she left. His shoulders slumped, all the energy gone out of him. 

\---------------------------------

Anya slammed her locker shut. That confrontation had taken something out of her, and she still had a whole school day to get through.

Gleb stepped out of the crowd, coming right for her. Anya clenched her hands. 

“Hey, Gleb,” she tried, hoping that he wouldn’t tear her down like he usually did. 

He looked at her bitterly. “God, why do people like you?”

Anya snapped back as though he had hit her. “What do you mean?”

“You seem so innocent, but you’re such a snake, you know that? You’ve been going behind my back for years, and playing the victim in front of everyone.”

The words struck Anya like a blow. What on earth did he mean?

“Gleb, what are you talking about? I’ve never tried to hurt you!”

He just sneered. “Of course that’s what you’d say. Remember? That game of spin the bottle in seventh grade?”

Anya was taken aback. _That_ was what he was mad about? “Gleb, that was years ago! You and Dmitri weren’t even dating! And that kiss was two seconds!”

“To you, maybe! You just take everything from me!” Gleb spat, storming off. Anya was left bewildered. After all these years, that party was still preying on him?

\-----------------------------------------------

Anya was about to push the door to her house shut when someone called out her name. She turned in surprise. 

Grigori was standing in her driveway. 

“Hey,” she said, hesitant after their last confrontation.

He stepped forward. “I just wanted to say sorry, after everything that happened over break. I didn’t know Olga was back.”

Anya approached him. “It’s-it’s fine. I was under a lot of stress, and there was so much going on.” She looked him in the eyes. “I just hope we can be friends again?”

Grigori smiled at her. “I was hoping you would say that.”

They hugged, his warmth familiar and missed.

\------------------------------------------------

Anya sat on her bed, sorting through a box of things she’d wanted to keep but hadn’t found time to organize. She thought that going through objects would help her work out her feelings, but it wasn’t really working. 

_I can’t stop thinking about Dmitri_ , she thought, shaking an old snowglobe and watching the plastic flakes settle. _And he did apologize. But I can’t seem to forgive him quite yet._

Anya dug through the box, each handful bringing up a new tchotchke she’d long forgotten about. _Sure, it was always supposed to be fake, and we never meant it to go on this long._ But somewhere along the way it had transformed into something real, which made Dmitri’s perceived betrayal hurt even more. 

Her hand hit the bottom of the box, landing on a small stack of paper. Frowning in confusion, she brought it into the light. In her hand lay several pieces of torn notebook paper, each folded in half with her name written on them. 

_What are these?_ Anya unfolded one. The messy script on the inside seemed familiar. 

The note read, _Everyone was really impressed by your presentation in English. It’s so nice having a smart fake girlfriend._

Face flushing, Anya opened another one. _I loved how you stood up to Gleb today. You’re the only one who doesn’t take his shit. I wish I could be more like you._

Tears sprung into Anya’s eyes. These were the notes Dmitri had been writing for her. She’d just tossed them in her bag, assuming they were blank. 

Now she opened another. _I guess you don’t read these. I know this whole thing is fake, but I can’t help wanting to hang out with you all the time._

Anya smoothed it out on her bed. How could she have been so blind? All this time, she thought her feelings were one-sided. But people really noticed what she did! And Dmitri… Liked it?

She opened note after note, each new message revealing another thing Dmitri thought about her. 

She reached the last note. Hands trembling slowly, she opened it. _I wish I could go back and start over with us, but do it for real this time. I don’t want to be in love with someone I can’t have. I’m no one’s prince._

Tears spilled from her eyes. _I have to make this right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one chapter left!!
> 
> find me on twitter @lesbianastasia!


	14. but here i am with arms unfolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya makes a choice.
> 
> chapter soundtrack: "stray italian greyhound" by vienna teng

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally done!!!!!

Just like the first day, Anya stood at the edge of the field. She clutched a letter in her hand. 

This one was meant to be delivered.

Dmitri was at the other end, all alone this time. _This is easy_ , Anya thought. _All I have to do is walk up to him. There’s no one else here. I can do this._

She took a step onto the still dew-wet grass. _Courage, don’t desert me._

Crossing the field took less time than she would’ve liked. She reached Dmitri and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, expression changing at the sight of her.

“Hey, Romanoff,” he said, trying to suppress a smile. 

Anya squared her shoulders. “I, uh, I have something to say.” 

Dmitri gestured to the letter in her hand. “If you want me to read that, you’re gonna have to give it to me yourself.”

Anya lifted the letter, ready to read her prepared words. Though she had gone over them again and again, they felt wrong on her tongue. She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. 

“I always used to want to end up with a prince. I know, stereotypical straight dream.”

Dmitri let out a short laugh. 

Anya continued. “But you- dating you- even though it was fake, it changed things for me. You let me see that things didn’t have to be the way I always thought.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I didn’t have to be straight, and I didn’t have to be what the world thought of me.”

She glanced down at the paper, trying to remember where this train of thought was headed. 

“You asked me why I had never dated anyone before. I told you that I was scared, and that was true. But it wasn’t just that.” She dropped the paper into the grass. “I was scared of men. I thought I had to be attracted to them, but I never felt anything like that. I felt disinterest at best, complete fear at worst.”

Wringing her hands, Anya looked up to see Dmitri’s reaction. He was watching her, eyes trained on her every move. She bit her lip and continued. 

“I never felt like that with you. You made me mad sometimes, but there was always some joy behind it. I always felt comfortable.”

She stepped closer, so close their faces would’ve touched if she stood on her toes. 

“You wrote in one of your notes that you weren’t anyone’s prince.”

Anya looked Dmitri right in his eyes. “I beg to disagree.”

She reached up to touch his cheek, and he bent down to meet her. Their lips met, and he became Anya’s whole world. Her hands tangled into his hair, his hands slid down to the small of her back. She pushed closer, deepening their kiss. 

Anya’s hand clutched at his shirt, Dmitri's breathing becoming heavier. After a minute, they pulled apart. For a beat, they looked in each other’s eyes. Anya stepped back, a little embarrassed at her show of affection. 

Dmitri took her hand. “You really just keep surprising me, princess. What do you say we do this for real?”

Anya tightened her grip on his hands. “What kind of rules do you write for a real relationship?”

The morning sunlight caught Dmitri’s hair, making him seem like some kind of otherworldly angel. He laughed, making Anya flush. 

“You don’t have rules in a real relationship,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist. “It’s called communication.”

Anya leaned against him. “What, you mean I actually have to _talk_ to you?”

Dmitri took her hands, pretending to dance. “I mean, we could just make out all the time, but that doesn’t seem very practical.” 

Anya laughed, swinging their arms wide. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

He spun her, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. She looked up, and he rested his chin on her head. “I love you, Anya.”

Anya smiled up at him, feeling like the sun was rising inside of her. “I love you, Dima.”

He let her go, and they held hands as they walked across the field, the grass sparkling with dew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! more to come soon probably

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this first installment i had a good time writing it


End file.
